


Hearts Don't Break Around Here

by consciousness_streaming



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Panic Attacks, VidCon, YouTubers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 12:16:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10100213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/consciousness_streaming/pseuds/consciousness_streaming
Summary: Dan accidentally tells Phil he loves him and it's the worst thing to ever happen to him until it's not





	

He’s got about fifteen minutes before he absolutely has to be in a cab on the way to Heathrow when his laptop dings with an incoming Skype call.

Dan knows who it is, the only person he’s ever skyped outside of like business dealings, and the only person invested enough to know that Dan sometimes might need a little help making sure he gets to the airport on time. It’s bad enough even when he is there, without Phil physically in the flat to get him motivated, Dan’s inner procrastinator is out in full effect and now he’s scampering around gathering up the last of the necessary items before he can leave. The deodorant incident is very heavily resting on his mind.

He answers the call and turns back to the bed, stuffing a couple more black t-shirts into his suit case.

“Dan!” he hears from the laptop speaker, “what are you still doing here? I thought you’d be gone already, and then I saw you were online. I figured I should check on you.”

He’s still frantically shoving things into the bag, half his mind on the conversation and half about which cab company to call, “Last minute packing, you know how it is.” He runs through a list of clothing items in his mind and sprints to the dresser for some pants and starts shoveling them in, “You didn’t take the gaming camera charger did you?”

“No,” Phil says. Dan catches a glimpse of him and his face is very close to the camera, taking up the full screen and he has a sudden pang for when they first became friends and spent literal hours talking to each other just like this. But there’s no time for indulging in nostalgia right now, he’s on a deadline. “I was going to ask you to bring it. I’ve been just filming on my iPhone for now.”

“It’s already packed,” Dan points to his case while bringing up the cab company on his mobile.

He hears Phil adjusting his position or something while he waits for someone to pick up on the other end of the line. He better not be calling from beside the pool again. Dan can only take so much. The worst part about it is that he could have been in the States with Phil already.  Phil’s family always invites him as well to their family vacations, and they usually time it for the week before he and Phil have an obligation in America anyway. He would have said yes this time, he knows, but there were a couple things one of them needed to handle here. Considering they were going on a small hiatus after Vidcon, he and Phil decided to have a couple videos lined up and ready to go so that there wouldn’t be a large gap in their updates. Instead of filming, editing, and then uploading, a process that could take days, they would just have to un-private the video and remember to tweet about it.

So Dan stayed behind because he procrastinated his own videos and hadn’t finished them in time. He also volunteered to edit Phil’s two videos so that he could spend the time with his family. No reason both of them should be working, and Dan actually really enjoys the editing process. Phil may have a degree in it, but Dan’s a perfectionist by nature and getting something done just right eases a part of his soul. Anyway, editing Phil’s videos isn’t too difficult anyway. Not only has he been watching Phil’s videos for a decade, but he’s been involved in the editing process for the better part of seven years. He knows how to edit for Phil’s channel so seamlessly that not even the fans will notice the difference.

He orders the cab, takes one last look around, “Am I missing anything?”

“Did you get the vlogging camera?” Phil asks.

“Yeah, yeah, and all the important things, I think,” he starts zipping up the suit case, down to ten minutes now until he has to be in the cab and on his way.

“Passport?”

“Passport!” Dan smacks his head, rushes to his drawer with extraneous important things, and grabs the passport, putting it into his wallet.

He surveys the room one last time, “I think that’s it.”

His phone beeps, indicating the cab is there, “Just the laptop, and then I’m ready.” He stands in front of the MacBook for the first time since Phil called, and finally gets a good look at him. He’s just this side of tan. Well, for Phil. And, damn him, he _is_ calling from the pool again. Dan refuses to get caught staring at his bare chest, “Anything else before I hang up rudely on you?”

Phil shakes his head, “Just get here safely.”

Dan’s mind is already out the door, he grabs the laptop case and he goes to disconnect the call and shut it down. “Okay, then, bye Philly, love you.”

He moves the mouse up into the right corner, about to press the X, hears a soft “you too,” and then shuts everything down, throws the MacBook into its case and rushes out the door and into the cab.

Dan breathes a sigh of relief in the cab, the worst of the day behind him now, he’s sure, eyeing the time on his mobile. He and Phil have come back from much worse odds when leaving for the airport. After the Australia incident, though, Dan knows Phil has very little trust in him. Phil’s taken to doing the majority of the packing, rightfully so. He even usually grabs Dan’s passport for him and he’s now in charge of all the filming equipment. Dan’s honestly surprised he forgot the charger this time.

It’s a longer drive to the airport than he remembers, but Dan amuses himself on Twitter, trying to figure out who else will be at Vidcon and when they’re arriving without having to actually DM anybody. His stalking skills are pretty on point.

Once at the airport, things go smoothly. He makes it through security and to the gate just in time for them to announce first class passengers.

Dan settles into his seat, excited to check out the movie options since it’s been a couple of months since he’s been on a long plane ride—and then it hits him, a strong, nausea inducing wave of anxiety.

Did he really tell Phil he loves him? And then didn’t notice he said it?

He lets his head fall into his hands, and yeah. This is how his life ends. By panic attack on a fucking plane to Florida.

Because here’s the thing. Dan’s totally in love with Phil.

Like, properly wants to marry him and adopt babies and shibes, in love. And has been since circa 2011. He had a minor mental breakdown in the months after his revelation, where he pushed Phil away and behaved so oddly that Phil thought he was seriously going to move out for a minute, but finally in between the torture of being near the love of his life and knowing painfully in his soul that he doesn’t feel the same, Dan struck a balance between loving Phil and loving being Phil’s best friend.

At the end of the day, Dan knows, he’ll never have another Phil. He cringes at words like “soul mates” thrown around outside of fiction, but really, of anyone on this entire planet, and he’s now met quite a lot of people, only Phil would ever even approach that definition.

He came close to ruining things in 2012, and now he’s gone and ruined things for real. Dan and Phil just aren’t people to throw around the word love. Dan won’t even say he loves all his subscribers – because of the cannibal thing.

He knows, deep down, that Phil loves him. You don’t purposefully spend your life with someone, co-mingle your brand with someone, without a deep familial love for them. Dan _knows_ Phil loves him. That’s not even the issue. The issue it that they don’t ever say it to one another. Ever. Because it has different connotations then it would between two straight male friends who throw the words around like a football. Two bi men can definitely tell each other they love each other platonically, Dan knows, but he and Phil just don’t, and haven’t for the last seven years so now it’s going to be really fucking obvious that Dan’s _in love_ with Phil and now they’ll have to have a stupid discussion about it and Phil will tell Dan that he doesn’t feel that way about him, but they’re still best friends.

God, Phil’s a literal angel, he wouldn’t cut off the friendship or anything, Dan’s not stupid, just apparently a masochist.

But the agony of looking into Phil’s eyes every day, filming videos, eating fucking cereal together while watching anime, and knowing that Phil doesn’t feel that way, it’s going to eat at Dan. And forget about any hint of pity he sees come from Phil. He can almost handle the rejection. He absolutely cannot handle the fucking pity.

Suddenly, it’s nine hours later and Dan’s barely come up for air in the depth of his crises. The panicking has lessened slightly, with constant reminders that Phil would absolutely never dump him as a friend, but the dread of confronting Phil, of sharing a room, of sharing a meet-up and spending the next week on top of each other… for once Dan isn’t looking forward to it.

The landing is rough and as Dan bounces in his seat, he tries not to think anymore. He’s tired, so tired, he didn’t sleep at all on this flight, despite the pill he took, he couldn’t watch any of the awesome movies on the in-flight entertainment because he wasn’t in a mental state to enjoy them, and, oh yeah, he’s about to have the world’s most awkward confrontation ever with the only person who never makes him feel awkward.

Welcome to America, indeed, Captain Bumpy McLandscrooked. Dan hears the click of the intercom and the pilot’s voice fades away. They taxi to the gate, and Dan pulls his phone out with dread. He turns it on and he swears it’s the longest his iPhone has ever taken to load. Fucking iPhone 7.

He waits to connect to the airport’s wifi and then his phone basically explodes with notifications. His Twitter mentions are ridiculous, youtubers are already getting hyped about VidCon, and his name keeps appearing in conjunction with Phil’s.

He has a couple of actually important emails, but he’s in no state to sort through those so he flags them to deal with later, after a long night’s sleep. And finally, he has two texts, both from Phil. Dan hesitates before clicking on the icon. Better to deal with this now than procrastinate and let it get worse and worse. Plus, there’s no way Phil will let this sit.

The first message, sent an hour into his plane ride simply says, _Please stop freaking out. We’ll talk when you get here._

And the second text, sent just thirty minutes ago, says _Meet me in the lobby when you get here I have your key. Text me when you get close._

Dan feels trepidation wash over him, ignores the first texts, and just responds “landed” and leaves it at that.

He picks up his bags on autopilot, heads out to the taxi stand, and takes the first available taxi to the hotel, all the while ignoring the swell of vomit threatening to punch out of his stomach, _Aliens_ style.

“It’s just Phil,” he reminds himself, “he’s seen you at your literal worst.”

The cab ride flies by and Dan almost gets distracted by the colorful billboards along the highway, reminding himself that he’s been on one of those. He has another surreal moment where he realizes this is his life. It never ceases to amaze him.

His anxiety sits high in his chest, squeezing his lungs and the closer they get the tighter the grip until they’re loitering outside the hotel and the nice cab driver has asked him several times if he’s okay.

Dan eyes the meter, throws an appropriate amount of bills at him, grabs his suitcase out of the trunk and squares up because he can’t let anything show. Fans will notice. Fans will notice if he didn’t sleep well last night, they’ll definitely be able to tell something happened if he comes into the lobby with utter terror on his face. He’s also likely to have to sign things and take selfies. His hair is not prepared for that.

Choking down some puke, Dan walks into the lobby and immediately spots Phil’s dark head sitting in the elaborate lobby, his laptop on his lap and no fans in sight.

Like something sparks in the air, Phil looks up when he walks in and meets his eyes. Dan freezes just inside the door, his suitcase blocking the entry for the lady behind him. He barely notices.

Phil carefully places his laptop to the side without dropping eye contact, walks slowly over to Dan. He unclenches Dan’s grip on the suit case, puts it to the side, and wraps him into a huge hug.

It takes Dan a second longer than is natural to respond, bringing his arms up around Phil to complete the hug, and something foreign settles in his chest. It’s like the anxiety vacated and this other unnamed feeling moved in. Dan doesn’t mind, though, because it’s comforting. It’s a positive energy and he’s usually so full of negative energy, that he’s shook at the feeling. Trust Phil to be some kind of positive energy battery that never runs out.

Without caring who might see them, Dan settles into the hug, letting that positive energy flow through him. He nuzzles into Phil’s neck, soaking it in. Yeah, things are going to be okay. Even if they have some bumps on the way. There’s no way Phil will hold this against him. It will be awkward to deal with his unrequited feelings out in the open, but if they can get through 2012, they can get through this.

Phil squeezes him tighter for a second, “I promise we’ll deal with this later,” he whispers, “but we have a couple fans who look like they’re catching flies over there.”

Dan nods, takes a microsecond to compose himself, and straightens up. Speaking loudly enough for the fans to overhear, he tells Phil he’s glad to see him.

Phil hands his key over and Dan places it delicately in his wallet, both of them cognizant of the fans gathering their courage to approach them. It doesn’t take long.

They take cute selfies, the fans good-naturedly teasing him for still using the same face, and leave the lobby before more fans hear about them being there and arrive. That’s what organized meet and greets are for. Dan has to remind Phil to grab his laptop and can’t keep the affectionate grin off his face while he teases him about being so forgetful.

“Louise and Cat are already waiting in our room,” Phil tells him as they climb the stairs to the elevator. Who has stairs to the elevator? Freaking America. “I tried to come up with a reason they shouldn’t be there, but, well,”

“It’s Cat and Louise,” Dan answers for him, knowing full well how hard it is for Phil to deceive them, let alone anyone.

The thing is, Dan’s genuinely excited to see them, especially Cat who he sees much less often than Louise, but he really needed to just get this out of the way while he’s still on a positive contact high from Phil’s hug.

Dan throws his suitcase into the room, shaking off the jetlag with genuine excitement to see his friends. There’s something electric in the air at Vidcon.

They spend the next hour catching up. People drift in and out of the room, as the word spreads that Dan is finally here, and they throw around lazy greetings and fumbling handshakes.

The hours after that are spent at a welcome gathering and then the after party and all the while Dan’s anxiety sits at a constant. The high from that morning is long gone by now, but the phantom memory of it remains. Dan doesn’t allow himself long enough to think about the upcoming conversation, or he’ll shit his pants.

He floats from one group to another, for once without Phil in tow. Usually at these things they’re known for constantly being in one another’s presence. There’s a reason that even Radio One had them in the same presenter photos and it’s the same reason that they won Best Vlogger at the same time when it’s clear that only one person is supposed to win.

They’re not meant to be separated and Dan can tell that his colleagues, if you can call them that, are off-put by their frequent separations.

When they do flit around one another, it’s pure reassurance to Dan. Phil brings Dan a new drink, his hand grazing Dan’s back as he then spots Tyler Oakley across the room. Dan takes a sneak shot of Phil with half his drink down his front, clumsiness striking again, and takes it upon himself to wipe Phil down with the extra napkins he took for this very reason.

The tension never goes away. It’s there. It’s growing as the night goes on, and Dan can barely keep his eyes open.

When it becomes clear that this party is going to continue for hours yet, Phil announces that he and Dan are going to get to bed, citing Dan’s recent arrival and jetlag for ruining the party. Dan punctuates this statement with a yawn and allows Phil to steer him back to the room, his stomach a mixture of pleasant buzz from the alcohol and enraged butterflies.

They don’t speak on the way back to their room. Dan lets Phil take the lead, knowing he drank less. He likes that he can let Phil take the lead. He likes that Phil lets him take the lead, too. They complement each other with give and take. Phil, while four years older than Dan, isn’t always in charge and has never let his age come between them or used it against Dan. And he’s never let Dan use it against him either.

Dan knows how he was at eighteen when they met, stars in his fucking eyes and leaking his feelings everywhere. An older guy wanted to talk to him, no, _AmazingPhil_ wanted to talk to him and be his friend. It took a couple of marathon length Skype sessions for Dan to get used to the awe. It never went away, mind, even to this day, but he learned to manage the awe and he’ll continue to learn to manage himself around Phil.

As they get closer and closer to the room, the anxiety quickens and Dan thinks he might need to stop to throw up.

Phil opens the door slowly, holds it open for Dan to enter as well, then casually goes about changing for bed. He goes into the bathroom and comes out with his glasses on, the sound of him fumbling with the lenses case the only betrayal of his nerves. Dan can only stand there in stunned silence, waiting for the noose to tighten.

“Anime?” Phil asks and it takes Dan a full ten seconds to translate the meaning of the word in his head.

Dan nods. After a minute he finds his voice, “Cowboy Beebop?”

“Sure,” Phil agrees, pulling his laptop out and making himself comfortable on his bed and leaving enough room for Dan to lie next to him. Dan takes a quick second to get ready for bed, sets an alarm for tomorrow, throws his phone onto the other bed where he assumes he’ll be sleeping tonight, and then takes the plunge to lie next to Phil, his mind soothed by the familiar opener to one of his favorite animes, careful not to brush any parts of his body against Phil’s.

Normally he’d have at least a leg thrown somewhere on Phil’s side of the bed. Possibly an arm too, or he’d rest his head on Phil’s chest because it’s easier for him to read the subtitles sideways than it is for Phil. One of this favorite parts of his friendship with Phil is the lack of persona space. He’s a being that loves to be comfortable and he loves to be touched, and Phil gives that to him so effortlessly. Dan takes a short moment to mourn the loss of Phil’s touch before it even happens.

They get about five minutes in before Phil sighs and gives in, pulls Dan across the bed and into his chest. The lap top doesn’t shut, but it falls away off Phil’s lap and the tinny Japanese voices become white noise. Phil locks his arms so that Dan can’t escape, not that he was trying, like Phil’s worried he’ll try to run away. A fair assumption, he’s not crazy about confrontation. Instead, Dan’s entire being is focused on where his ear is resting on Phil’s chest. The hummingbird heart under his ear is both reassuring and nerve-wrecking. The air feels thick, like something very important is about to happen, like Dan’s life is about to change. He knows it’s going to change. Phil doesn’t give him too long to get lost in his head.

“There’s a lot of different ways to love someone,” Phil begins, his voice deeper because Dan can hear it through Phil’s chest and somehow it sinks from Phil’s heart into his own. He can’t breathe properly, “and I realized a long time ago that I’m going to always love you in every way.”

“Phil,” is all he can get out, raising himself up as best as he can to look him in the face. Phil isn’t looking back at him. He’s looking at the ceiling, his face burdened by shadows and tinged pink by the laptop still playing on the bed beside him. He looks ethereal. His arms tighten around Dan.

“I’ve resigned myself to being the best of friends to you a long time ago,” finally he looks down and meets Dan’s eyes and shit, Dan’s hit by a wave of longing so hard that he thinks he’s going to keel over like the abandoned laptop. A swell of hope stirs in the cockles of his heart and he feels the beginnings of a smile tickle his face.

Phil presses on, oblivious to Dan, “So if your anxiety has been because you don’t love me romantically and don’t know how to tell me, put it out of your mind. I’ll always be by your side. I couldn’t abandon you if I tried. And I won’t ever force my feelings on you.”

“You’re such an idiot,” Dan mutters, but Phil’s got his determined face on and he’s obviously been working up to this speech, so Dan lets him continue and tries to memorize every single thing about this moment.

“So if it’s the only time I get to say it, Dan, I love you,” Dan feels the smile break over his face and he crawls up Phil’s body so he’s lying on top of him, chest to chest, and looking him straight in the eyes, “I’m in love with you. You’re the best part of my day. I want to spend the rest of my life with you in any capacity you’ll have me, but I know you don’t—”

Dan has to interrupt him here, but he can’t find the words, so he leans down to kiss Phil softly, like he’s imagined doing a trillion times. Phil’s surprise lasts barely a second before he returns the kiss. Dan doesn’t let it go on too long, he has things of his own he needs to say.

“You better spend the rest of your life with me,” he tells Phil seriously, “I’ve invested way too much time keeping you alive to have you abandon me now.”

He pecks a slightly stunned Phil on the lips again, just because he can, “besides, I’m way too much of a possessive bastard to let the things I love out of my sight for too long.”

Dan will always treasure the face Phil makes when he works it out. It’s so precious that Dan has to kiss it off his face. For good measure, he whispers “love you, Philly,” into Phil’s lips, just to make sure the message got across. Then chases it into his mouth.

They almost don’t make it to their panel the next morning.

 


End file.
